


5 Times Ken Wore Daisuke's Clothes + 1 Time Daisuke Wore Ken's

by Anatui



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canon Related, Domestic Fluff, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Missing Scene, Relationship Reveal, Sexual Humor, Sharing Clothes, Sleepovers, Snarky Ichijouji Ken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:48:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22571257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anatui/pseuds/Anatui
Summary: Daisuke was too distracted by his best friend's shivering to pay attention to anything he said. He heaved a sigh, shrugged the flame-covered jacket off his shoulders, and shoved it in Ken's face. "You're freezing," was all the explanation he gave.Ken blinked at him for a long minute before saying, "But then you'll be cold, Daisuke.""What are you talking about? I don't get cold." But when he received nothing but a glare, he huffed. "Ken, I'm not offering."Delicate black eyebrows jutted downward in confusion. "What do you—?""I'm telling," Daisuke said, and he grabbed Ken's wrist and pushed it through the arm hole. "I'm the leader, remember? And I'm pulling rank."ORDaisuke has zero problems with Ken wearing his clothing. Ken always looks damn good in them.
Relationships: Ichijouji Ken/Motomiya Daisuke | Davis Motomiya
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61
Collections: Ana's 2020 Writing Challenge, Daiken Discord Server





	5 Times Ken Wore Daisuke's Clothes + 1 Time Daisuke Wore Ken's

**Author's Note:**

> My father-in-law passed away last night, so my one-shots and updates may be a little scarce for a bit. In the meantime, enjoy this ridiculous little piece.

**1**

The night of their first, albeit impromptu, sleepover, Ken climbed under his blankets in his day clothes. He had already shed his uniform jacket and folded it neatly on Daisuke's desk, but he didn't even consider asking for some more comfortable clothing to borrow.

Daisuke noticed in the middle of pulling on his yellow pajamas. He stood beside his bed, in the narrow empty space between it and where they'd laid out the futon, and when he glanced down, he paused while buttoning the soft yellow top. The matching pants were sitting on the bed beside him.

He froze. "What are you doing, Ichijouji?"

Ken sent him a puzzled frown, then immediately averted his eyes from his half-naked new friend. "Getting ready to go to sleep," he answered quietly.

"You can't wear that."

He swallowed. "I don't have anything else to wear."

Daisuke scoffed. "Don't be stupid. You should've asked to borrow something."

Ken shifted onto his side, facing away, and pulled the blanket up to his chin. "I'll be fine, really."

"Come on, Ichijouji, that's your uniform. It won't be comfortable." But when Ken simply repeated he would be _fine_ , Daisuke grumbled and tore off the partially buttoned yellow top of his favorite pajamas. "Wear these," he said, thrusting the top and matching pants toward the other boy.

"Thank you, Motomiya," Ken said, but he made no move to take the proffered pajamas.

"A proper thank you would be putting it on." He shuffled closer, practically shoving the clothes in the other boy's face. "Take it."

Ken twisted to look at him and shook his head. "I appreciate the gesture and your concern, Motomiya, but I will sleep perfectly fine in my own clothing."

Daisuke dropped down into a squat beside the futon and nearly growled. "Ichijouji, if you don't change into this right now"—he shook the yellow pajamas in his face—"I'll put it on you myself. Are we clear?"

Shy and uncertain, Ken paled at the words, then dropped his head as a deep red flush spread over his cheeks. "I'll change," he said in a quiet voice, finally accepting the pajamas.

With a grin, Daisuke moved to his dresser to grab a fresh set of sleepwear, ignoring the fact that he'd been waltzing around in his boxers for the past few minutes. He also missed the way Ken, silent as the grave, slipped from his bed and disappeared to change in the bathroom.

But he definitely noticed when he got back a couple minutes later.

Ken padded into the room in Daisuke's favorite pajamas, yellow like the sun, as Daisuke dropped onto his bed. He still kept his face down, and his Tamachi uniform was folded neatly and tucked under one arm. He laid the uniform with his blazer on the desk and sat on the futon again, hesitating before slipping his legs under the covers.

The golden yellow suited Ken in a way Daisuke hadn't considered before. It brought a warmth to his skin and contrasted well with the pretty black hair.

Well, the warmth to Ken's skin may have had something to do with the fact that he was still blushing. Worse than before actually.

Daisuke leaned off the mattress to get closer to his level. "It suits you."

Ken's face reddened considerably. "Thank you, Motomiya," he nearly whispered.

**2**

"Fuck," Daisuke mumbled, rubbing his arms to keep warm. "Now I'm glad we never traveled to File Island before."

Chibimon snickered while burrowing into his hair. Of course he could laugh—he wasn't the one who had to walk in the snow and ice.

Ken, Minomon in his arms, followed him slowly. "I believe Koushiro-san mentioned there are some hot springs here." His voice quivered, but in pure Ken fashion, he didn't complain. "It will be decidedly warmer if we find them."

"And what, we'll just strip down and go swimming?"

His Jogress partner sent him a sharp look, even as his shoulders trembled against the cold. "I wouldn't recommend it. Unless something drastic has changed, the springs are so hot they're boiling."

Daisuke frowned. He would've much preferred to go for a dip in warm water to get his muscles working properly—though the drying-off part would've been dangerous.

Ken sighed and tucked his head down toward Minomon. "We just have to find a new TV," he said. "If Freezeland doesn't have a second one, one of the nearby areas must. I think we're closer to the Great Canyon, but I'd prefer not to travel there if at all possible—especially while our Digimon are weakened."

"Lots of big scary Digimon?"

" _Ancient_ scary Digimon, yes."

"Right." Daisuke nodded, his determination returning. "We should head toward Toy Town then."

They didn't move.

Daisuke glanced in multiple directions. "Which way is it again?"

Ken stumbled close to him, closer than he would typically stand, and glanced around. "That way," he said, lifting his arm to point toward their right.

But Daisuke was too distracted by his best friend's shivering to pay attention to anything he said. He heaved a sigh, shrugged the flame-covered jacket off his shoulders, and shoved it in Ken's face. "You're freezing," was all the explanation he gave.

Ken blinked at him for a long minute before saying, "But then you'll be cold, Daisuke."

"What are you talking about? I don't get cold." But when he received nothing but a glare, he huffed. "Ken, I'm not offering."

Delicate black eyebrows jutted downward in confusion. "What do you—?"

"I'm telling," Daisuke said, and he grabbed Ken's wrist and pushed it through the arm hole. "I'm the leader, remember? And I'm pulling rank."

But Ken didn't resist. Instead, he switched Minomon's position and moved his other arm closer so Daisuke could slide it into the second arm hole and pull it snug over his shoulders from the back.

Daisuke circled around before standing close, their feet nestled between each other, and hooking the zipper together. He personally never used the zipper, but Ken should be as warm as possible, so he zipped it all the way to the top.

Ken tucked his head down like a turtle, burying his neck in the warm fur that lined the collar. "Thank you," he murmured.

Now that their eyes met, Daisuke froze, his hands stopping in the middle of smoothing out the shoulders, and nodded. But he didn't pull away. And the longer he stared, the pinker Ken's cheeks became, already flushed from the cold, much like his nose. 

"Yeah, well, can't have you freezing, Ichijouji," he said, voice slow and deliberate. He took one of Ken's hands between his own and rubbed, hoping the warmth from his gloves would help the taller boy. "You're far too important."

Finally, Ken's gaze darted down, breaking eye contact, and his cheeks were no longer pink—they were bright red.

They stood like that for a long minute, unbelievably close together, Daisuke's hands wrapped around one of Ken's, Daisuke staring and Ken burying his blushing cheeks in the warm fur.

Daisuke bit his lip. "There," he finally said. "You'll be warmer like this."

Ken only nodded.

But he couldn't stop staring.

Ken looked good in his jacket, as flashy as it was. To be fair, Ken looked good in everything he wore.

Hell, Ken looked good in general, and Daisuke really liked looking at him.

But there was something particularly enthralling about Ken wearing _his_ jacket. It sent a shiver through his body that was in no way related to the cold climate.

It took him a minute to recognize that feeling.

"Daisuke?" Chibimon tugged on his hair. "Shouldn't we get going?"

He blinked, breaking the spell, and cleared his throat. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right." He stepped back and started in the direction Ken had pointed to not long ago. "Let's go."

Ken followed behind him, slow and steady.

That feeling.

Something only Ken could invoke.

Yeah.

He liked Ken.

Not like a friend. Not even like a best friend.

Oh, fuck.

He _liked_ Ken.

**3**

Per usual, Ken was the only one of the group still wearing his middle school uniform. Everyone else had changed before coming over to the Motomiyas' apartment, but Ken had traveled there straight from Tamachi Middle School. He had, at least, shed his dark gray blazer and black-and-blue-striped tie.

He looked prim and proper but so fucking cute, and Daisuke couldn't stop staring at him from across the room.

"Uh, Daisuke-kun?" Takeru waved his hand in front of his face, then glanced over his shoulder. "You got a thing for Miyako-san?"

Daisuke nearly spat out his drink. "What the hell, Takeru?"

The blond laughed. "Good to know you were listening."

"I would never!"

"I'm just saying, you're staring at her awfully intently."

Okay, it was true Ken and Miyako were standing together and talking, but Daisuke was most definitely not staring at Miyako of all people.

"Unless…" Takeru's voice took on a sly tone as he took another glance across the living room. "Well, unless you were staring at Ken-kun."

Daisuke spluttered for a moment before settling on taking another drink, leaving the question unanswered.

Which was, of course, enough of an answer for Takeru.

He sent him a smirk. "So, Ken-kun, huh?"

Daisuke scowled. "If you have something to say, Takeru, spit it out."

"I was just thinking, if you like him so much, why are you over here talking to me?"

" _Oh! I'm so sorry._ "

Daisuke and Takeru shot startled looks across the room, where Miyako had managed to fling her fruit punch during one of her wild gesticulations. The bright red-violet liquid had splattered right on Ken's face and shirt, plus the wall behind him, and he blinked at her, still processing, while Miyako, red-faced in embarrassment, fussed over his white shirt.

Sighing, Daisuke set his cup on the counter behind him and marched across the room. "Come on," he said as soon as he had his hand around Ken's wrist. "Let's clean you up."

Ken followed him without a word.

"I know I don't have anything your style," Daisuke said, sifting through his drawers, "but we need to clean that before it stains." He tried to find something more mellow, more simple, more neutral-colored, more Ken's style, but there weren't any real options.

The door clicked shut.

At last, he grabbed an indigo T-shirt with a dragon breathing fire on the front—it reminded him of Fladramon—and turned toward Ken.

Daisuke froze.

Ken already had the white shirt unbuttoned, and he slipped it off his shoulders and used it to mop up the remnants of fruit punch from his chest and face and a few strands of hair. Then, he looked up, and their eyes met.

It was obvious Daisuke had been staring. Was currently staring.

But Ken smiled as he closed the distance between them. He set the soiled shirt on top of the dresser, and their fingers brushed when he took the T-shirt from Daisuke's hands.

A moment later, once he'd pulled it on, he flattened out any wrinkles, running his hands over his chest and sides, and his eyes flitted up again. "Do I look ridiculous?" he murmured.

_No._

Well, that's what Daisuke meant to say.

But he was still too busy staring.

During their sleepovers, Ken still changed in the bathroom, so this…this was completely different. This was a half-naked Ken in his bedroom. And now a Ken who was wearing _his_ shirt.

Yeah, it wasn't Ken's style by any means, but even though the T-shirt looked huge on his narrow frame, god, he looked good in everything.

"Daisuke?" Ken stepped close enough to press a hand to his cheek, eyebrows curving inward. "You all right?"

Daisuke cleared his throat, trying hard not to think about the smooth fingers practically caressing his face. "Um, yeah, yes. You look…good. You always look good. You could never look ridiculous."

A gentle smile spread across Ken's lips. "Thank you," he said, then leaned close enough to press their mouths together.

The kiss didn't last long.

Ken pulled back to gauge his reaction, eyes searching.

Daisuke opened his mouth to say something. Anything. Preferably something that didn't make him look like a complete idiot.

But he felt hot everywhere.

His face was on fire.

His eyes settled on Ken's button-up shirt on top of the dresser, and he snatched it up. "We, um, I need to clean this," he said, holding it close to his chest, and he stumbled toward the door, trying not to fall because he couldn't look away from his very amused best friend. "You know, before the stain sets. Wouldn't want you to have to get a new one. That, uh, that'd really suck."

Daisuke closed his bedroom door behind himself, not caring that Ken was still inside, and clung to the shirt. It smelled like Ken.

And fruit punch.

Right.

Stain prevention.

In the laundry room a moment later, as he soaked the shirt in cool water, Daisuke buried his face in his hands.

Yeah, he'd definitely failed his attempt to not look like a complete idiot.

If Ken ever gave him a second chance, he'd definitely kiss back. And hopefully not fall apart immediately afterward.

**4**

He sighed as Ken pressed lazy kisses against his throat.

The weekends his parents were away were the best. Especially since Jun was almost never there anymore. They were old enough they didn't need supervision anyway—and dear god, Daisuke didn't want any sort of supervision while Ken did such erotic things with his tongue.

No one knew what they did when they were in the apartment alone. Or anywhere alone for that matter—they could barely keep their hands off each other, and they stole kisses as frequently as they could, secretly, silently.

A long moan escaped his lips as Ken's fingers closed around his length. He was still tired, still sore from an hour ago, but Ken could revitalize him with a simple touch.

Teeth nipped at his collarbone.

A hand pumped his shaft.

His eyes clenched shut.

Oh, fuck, he was going to come again. It hadn't even been that long, dammit.

But then, Ken released him and pulled away. Slipped off the fucking bed, which was definitely not where this was supposed to be going.

Daisuke definitely didn't whimper.

He did stare at the very naked and partially aroused teen standing next to his bed, though. The most beautiful person in the world and, dear god, definitely the sexiest. Ken. His best friend. His…

Well, truth be told, he didn't know what they were anymore.

They'd never talked about it.

Hanging out and sleepovers had gained the added bonus of kissing and groping, but they'd never talked about it. Even when they moved into naked territory, they'd never talked about it. Hell, now that they were having sex pretty much every chance they got, they'd still never talked about it.

But he was fairly certain Ken wasn't doing anything with anyone else, and Daisuke for sure wasn't. So exclusivity was something, right?

Ken bent down to find something from the floor—providing Daisuke with a fantastic view of his gorgeous ass—and pulled up with a pair of bright red and orange boxers that definitely didn't belong to him. He slid them on anyway—they were relatively clean, aside from the hours they'd spent on the floor once they'd stripped off their clothing this afternoon.

"Where are you going?"

Daisuke did _not_ sound desperate.

"I'm thirsty." Ken leaned over the bed to press a kiss to his lips. "You want anything to drink?"

He shook his head but said, "Water."

"And when I come back"—Ken lowered his voice—"I'm going to have something to eat."

He slipped through the door and closed it behind him, and Daisuke collapsed back onto the bed, drawing ragged breaths as he tried to calm his body. But he pulsed with arousal still, and he slid his hand under the sheets to grasp himself, to alleviate the ache, the wanting.

The door pushed open, and Ken waltzed in with a glass of water.

Why did he have to look better in Daisuke's clothes than Daisuke did himself? Not fucking fair.

Ken paused, frowning at the movement under the sheets.

Feeling guilty under his sharp gaze, Daisuke let go and sat up. "Hey." He licked his lips. "Uh, I thought you were getting food."

Ken tutted but moved close enough to hand him the glass. He waited till Daisuke was gulping down the water to respond: "Who said I intend to eat _food_?"

Daisuke choked and spluttered with the water, spilling half of his mouthful down his chest.

But Ken cast him an unimpressed glance as he pulled the sheets back far enough to reveal his hard-on. "Really, Daisuke, I'd prefer to spend the night in a dry bed." And he nudged his legs apart before climbing onto the bed. Still wearing the borrowed red and orange boxers, which somehow made this— _him_ —even sexier.

Daisuke clutched the glass to his chest, desperate not to spill any more as Ken settled between his legs.

**5**

"We're going to be late," Ken called from the living room.

Daisuke still hadn't picked out what shirt to wear, and fussing through his drawers wasn't getting him anywhere. "I don't know what to wear," he yelled.

Ken's melodic laughter filtered into the room before the young man appeared himself. "It's just a Christmas party," he said, leaning against the door frame, his hands stuck in the pockets of his—wait, no, that was Daisuke's coat.

"Yeah, but…"

Ken stepped into the room and glanced through his dresser before tugging out a rarely worn blue sweater. "There's no need to over-complicate things, Daisuke," he said, holding the sweater up. "Put on an undershirt and wear this. You look lovely in blue."

They were twenty years old. They'd been best friends since they were eleven. Shared their first kiss at fourteen. Been each other's first _everything_. Lived together for a couple years now. But Daisuke still blushed at the compliment.

"Okay," he said and proceeded to pull on an undershirt and then the sweater.

"See?" Ken nodded toward the mirror. "You look very nice."

When Daisuke paused in front of the mirror to look at himself, he wasn't impressed, but it's not like he was expecting something amazing. Then, Ken draped himself over his shoulder and wrapped his arms around his waist, and Daisuke pressed his hand over top Ken's, and everything was perfect.

"If you're wearing my coat, how am I supposed to keep warm?" he asked, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Ken laughed, hot breath fanning over Daisuke's neck. "I thought you didn't get cold, Motomiya."

He grinned, leaning his head against Ken's. "Well, I suppose I can't have you freezing." His fingers squeezed the delicate ones underneath. "You're far too important."

Ken pressed a kiss to his neck. "Besides," he said, more seriously, "I like wearing your clothes. Makes me feel like you're right here protecting me."

"I like you wearing my clothes too." He caught Ken's eyes in the mirror and hoped he understood the implication. "But for very different reasons."

The heat in his eyes said he definitely understood, but Ken pulled back. "We should go. We'll definitely be late now."

Daisuke followed close behind, but he couldn't stop staring at Ken in that coat.

They lived together—in all meanings of the word—and had basically been a couple for years now, but Ken had always been a very private person. They'd never announced their relationship, and their behavior in public hadn't changed when things had turned intimate.

Most people thought they were nothing more than best friends.

Their families definitely still did, but that wasn't surprising. The Motomiyas had never paid close enough attention to notice the nuances of their relationship, and the Ichijoujis were, perhaps, intentionally oblivious.

Their friends, though, were probably the only ones who realized the change.

A huge factor in that may have been that, when they became roommates, they rented an apartment that only had one bedroom. They had shown off their apartment once they'd moved in, and no one had missed the fact that the single bedroom—the single bed—meant they shared.

But this… this was different.

Ken wearing his clothes—in public, voluntarily—was an announcement of sorts, at least to their friends.

Of course, when Ken took his hand as they walked to the train station, that was an announcement too.

**+1**

Daisuke lay on his stomach on the couch, flipping through the latest issue of _Number_ , his feet up in the air. He'd had the day off and spent his free time lazing about the apartment in nothing but one of Ken's cute little kimonos. It was as good as it got with Ken working all morning and the Digimon recharging in the Digital World for the weekend.

He sighed and flipped the magazine shut before tossing it onto the nearby table.

Ken would be home soon, and he was more than ready to pounce the moment he opened the door. Ken would be exhausted—mentally if not physically—but that just meant Daisuke got to be in control of things for once.

He rolled onto his side and grabbed the remote to play some music. Something to set the mood maybe. Or at least entertain himself while he waited.

When he finally settled on a playlist and fully relaxed, his arm slung over his eyes, the door at last creaked open.

Ken must've been on the phone because he was talking as he came through the door: "I appreciate that, Mama, but really, we're doing fine. We haven't…"

Someone gasped.

Something fell with a hard _thud_ onto the floor.

Daisuke jolted up.

Yeah, Ken definitely wasn't talking on the phone. No, Mrs. Ichijouji was standing right beside him, a bag toppled over on the floor at her feet, and from the ghostly pale look on her face, she'd seen more of him than anyone wanted.

Beside her, Ken had his face buried in his hand. "Motomiya, what the hell are wearing?"

He quickly sat up, making sure the kimono was covering everything, trying to ignore how hot his face felt. "Um, something comfortable?"

Ken snorted. "Why don't you get a little _less_ comfortable?"

Without a word, Daisuke rose and darted to the bedroom to get dressed, and when he came out a couple minutes later, Mrs. Ichijouji was sitting on the armchair with a glass of water while Ken put away a few groceries.

Daisuke joined him in the kitchen and whispered, "I didn't know she'd be coming over."

Ken shot him a glare. "You would have if you'd checked your phone."

"It's on the charger." He frowned. "I was trying to surprise you."

"Oh, trust me, walking in with _my mother_ to see you in nothing but one of my kimonos with your dick just hanging out for anyone to see was definitely a surprise. Congratulations are in order."

"That's not fair," Daisuke said with a pout. "I wanted to seduce you."

Ken released a huff—or it may have been a laugh—as he closed the fridge and gave him his full attention. "If you hadn't completely traumatized my mother, I assure you, I would be sufficiently seduced."

"Promise?"

He smiled then and covered Daisuke's mouth with a kiss. "I promise." Then, his smile turned sour. "Now, I have to go salvage this situation. Not that I imagine she'll stay long after that lovely display." He started toward the living room, then paused to glance back and added, in a hushed voice, "You can seduce me once she's gone if you must."

Daisuke stepped close enough to grab his ass through the black skinny jeans. "I'll hold you to that, Ichijouji."


End file.
